He’s been mine from the beginning.
Noam had forgotten—that memory buried under the weight of everything else that happened last night, driven from his mind by pain and terror. It emerged now, horrible and fully formed, and Noam jerked his gaze away from Holloway’s face so he wouldn’t be tempted to stare.
Fuck.
Of all the safe houses they could’ve fled to, of course they chose this one. Of course they’d hidden themselves away with Lehrer’sthirdgoddamn spy.
Dara was still talking, an easy smile on his lips—relieved that Noam was awake, that Holloway had kept them safe, that they’d figured out a way around Lehrer’s secret strengths.
What if Dara gave it all away? Holloway already knew about the Independence Day plan, but he still believed that plot involved the vaccine. If Dara told him the new order of events, it really would be over.
If Lehrer wasn’t halfway here already.
“Dara,” Noam croaked.
Dara didn’t hear him at first, kept talking to Holloway—they were on the subject of breakfast now, Dara listing a shockingly long number of dishes he was apparently intending to force-feed Noam—
“Dara,” Noam said again. This time Dara’s head swung round to look at him. Noam hated seeing the way worry etched the lines of his face so instantly, as if Noam were just ...that, now. Something to coddle and protect.
A burden.
“Are you okay?” Dara asked, salt in the wound.
“No,” Noam said. “Actually, I’m starting to feel kind of ... dizzy, and I think I might try and ... sleep. Some.”
“Oh!” Dara was on his feet a beat later, glancing toward Holloway like waiting for his permission to leave. “Okay. We can—we’ll leave you be, then.”
Noam caught Dara’s wrist. “No. Stay with me. Just ... for a little while.”
Dara flinched, and guilt immediately rose up dark in Noam’s stomach. God. He kept forgetting Dara hated being grabbed like that.
He let go. “Sorry.”
But before Dara could respond, there was another knock on the bedroom door. Panic surged up into Noam’s mouth, sharp and briny—Lehrer, what if it was Lehrer?—but when Holloway opened the door, it was Ames and Bethany on the other side.
Bethany was pink-cheeked and wearing a dress that looked like she’d retrieved it—wrinkled—from her bedroom floor. She was across the room and at Noam’s side almost immediately, blonde hair fraying loose around her face, like some kind of disorganized mad scientist.
Noam grinned despite himself. “You made it.”
“Barely.”She made a face. “I had to make myself sick to get out of Swensson’s class. It was disgusting.”
“Wait,” Noam said, holding up a hand. “Does this mean the time you fainted during basic and conveniently didn’t have to go out with the rest of us on that QZ obstacle course was—”
“Turns out healing magic’s more useful than people give it credit for,” Bethany said with a crooked smile. “Now lie still—I have to concentrate.”
Holloway politely loaned them some privacy while Bethany worked. After his footsteps had retreated down the hall, Noam gritted his teeth against the pain—Bethany was focused on knitting together his fractured ribs, which hurt like amotherfucker—and waved for Ames to shut the door.
“We gotta get out of here,” he managed to choke out once Ames had turned the latch.
“Tell me about it,” Ames said. “Honestly, it’s shocking Lehrer hasn’t sent someone to check Holloway’s house—heknowsHolloway’s resistance. This is like the most obvious place in the world we could have gone.”
Bethany moved on to his spleen, and that agony was one Noam felt deep and visceral, a broken sound ripping itself out of his chest as he twisted under the light press of Bethany’s hands. “Sorry,” she said, and Noam rubbed the sweat from his face with the flat of his palm.
“Yeah,” he said, a little breathlessly now. “Well, Lehrer hasn’t checked for a reason. He knows we’re here already.”
Dara and Bethany exchanged looks, Bethany’s magic still weaving through Noam’s gut.
“Lehrer told me. While we were fighting. He told me Holloway’s ... he told me Holloway’s a spy.”
